


Sticky Fingers

by ryouseiteki



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Eddie is a bit of a disaster lbr, Guess Venom will just have to do it, Kidnapping, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rescue Missions, Sneaking, Someone help this dumpster-fire of a human being, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-06 00:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryouseiteki/pseuds/ryouseiteki
Summary: In which Eddie is an unconscious klepto, and it gets him into and out of more places - and trouble, than anything else in his life.Until now.orA certain recently fired investigative journalist touches stuff he's not supposed to. No one tells him not to this time, admittedly, so there's that.





	1. Chapter 1

Eddie grew up an orphan on the streets of New York, where the best way for small homeless children to survive was by forming feral packs with other poor street rats. Adults couldn't be trusted, Police were the enemy, and getting conscripted into a gang was a not so distant eventuality to be avoided at all costs. Everyone knows that kids taken in by gangs as new meat are to be used and abused in various ways, either as tools, sexual pets, to be sold whole or piecemeal in black-market trading, or as pure cannon fodder.

Thus, the packs.

They fluctuated on the daily, as members changed factions or were caught or just disappeared without a trace, though some groups where more stable than others. Each had their own niche - from selling newspapers, to helping at the fish-docks, to entertaining tourists, to skirting the gangs for scraps, to begging on street corners. Some of the packs even partially overlapped.

Eddie was one of the drifters, and his talent was fleecing tricks while people were distracted by any of the other kids' shenanigans. He got very, very good at not seeming to pay attention to what his hands were doing as he swiped wallets, jewelry, phones - anything that could be pocketed in one easy motion. He got so good at it, in fact, that he started doing it while literally not paying attention to what his hands were doing. 

It was a skill learned young and reinforced with the memories of exchanging his goods for warm clothes and filling his aching, empty belly. And it was a skill that, unfortunately, followed him as he aged out of being a small, scrappy orphan and into a muscled, legitimate adult.

It's made him good at people finding, and hella good at sneaking into random office buildings and homes to return accidentally acquired property. Not to mention the other talents necessary to getting into those places without getting caught like lockpicking and staying out of sight. He's probably done more legwork returning shit than for his career, honestly.

It is also why he, settling his jobless ass on a shitty hotel room mattress on the worst day of his life after being kicked out of his ex-fiance's flat, feels something digging into his left butt-cheek against the bedspread, when he definitely didn't put anything into that pocket this morning.

Eddie groans to himself, "Not again... not today, man. God. Could this day get any worse?" He grumbles, leaning to the side and digging whatever he'd accidentally swiped out of his pocket. 

Yup, that's a wallet. That's a wallet that is very much not his.

Eddie sighs and and drags himself up the bed, flopping onto his stomach with his arms stretched out over the pillows near the bedside table so that the shitty hotel lamp light is over the object. 

He whistles lowly.

Damn, that's a nice wallet. Leather with even stitching and fancy ass swirl designs pressed in. There's even a tiny golden decal embossed in a corner. He might just keep whatever cash is in it before returning it to it's owner - they surely won't need it. Eddie flips it open, sees the ID, and drops it with a yelp. 

He quickly picks up Carlton Drake's stupid shit wallet with a curse and flips through it.

He was right about the cash, but other than a few receipts - the guy spends more on his haircut than Anne did on her monthly rent, jesus christ - the item that keeps his attention is the man's Life Foundation key card. 

Swallowing thickly, Eddie slaps the wallet shut and shoves it back into his pocket, scrambling to his feet and reaching for his dufflebag of clothing. He pulls out dull colors, not too dark but not too bright - nondescript, and smirks.

They want proof? He'll get them proof.

Eddie creeps up to the Life Foundation headquarters through the surrounding woods. Earlier that very day, his press badge had gotten him through the front door, but now he isn't so lucky. Even with his handy dandy all access CEO pass via Carlton Drake's misaquired wallet, there are guards stationed at the entrance and patrolling the grounds. He'd had to park his bike behind some brush near the road and hope no one spots it before he's done here, it's motor was too loud to get him any closer.

Eddie peeks out from behind a tree and scopes the property. There's a tall fence surrounding the place, and it is very tall, but the wires look pretty thin and there's no fuzzy static suggesting that it's electrified. There are cameras high on the building's walls that are cycling in slow, predictable arcs. And last but not least, there are guards walking around, and though they do look alert, he just saw one slide out of an emergency exit to lean against the wall for a smoke. Butts litter the area, so it must be a common occurrence. The guard stamps out his toke, and goes back inside. Leaving a stone propping the exit open. Yes!

Eddie pulls out a pair of wire cutters from his hoodie pocket, and waits for an opportune moment in camera rotation and guard patrol. He isn't a very patient person, and the tension is making him antsy, but the payoff of this gig has the potential to be huge and get him back on the map, so he endures. 

Sweat slides down the side of his face as the moment comes, and he crouches and stalks forward with smooth strides. He's long since mastered this - keeping low, with no abrupt, large motions to catch the guards' attention.

He makes quick work of a hole in the fence. Once he's through, he props the cutout back against the fence, partially overlapping the hole so that a quick glance would miss the gap in the severed wire. With the last guard having turned the corner and the cameras both in awkward angles of their cycle, Eddie up and sprints the rest of the way to the propped open emergency exit.

He pauses once he's inside, heart jackrabbit quick. He doesn't know where a guard might come from on their routes now. 

From the .pdf blueprints that he downloaded to his phone from the employee fire safety manual he'd found online, he should be near the labs. It was the closest he could get to the the offices, which are further into the building. Hopefully someone has either left their computer unlocked or has physical copies of their documents so he can find out just what kind of cascading system failure caused their oh so amazing rocket to crash in Malaysia, killing innocent people who were then swept under the rug like so much detritus.

Eddie creeps through the halls in his crouched, silent stalk, straining his hearing, and pauses when the jostling step of a geared up security guard moves towards him. He bites his lip and backtracks, taking a side corridor. It puts him more into the lab area and further from the offices, but he really doesn't want to add getting caught to the list of shit his day has had.

He backs around the corner, then turns on his heel to come face to ass with Drake himself. The man is snarling as he types into the keypad of a biolocked door - must be missing that all purpose pass, huh? - and Eddie holds his breath, frozen in place like a rabbit under a bush with a raptor circling overhead.

Drake makes a satisfied noise, then puts his hand against the pad. It flashes under his palm and dings green. The door opens. Drake goes inside. 

There's no time to think. 

Eddie slips in behind the CEO before the door can close. He scopes the room as quickly as he can, barely able to hear over the stressed sound of his heartbeat, and dives quickly and quietly behind some miscellaneous machinery.

Eddie puts a hand over his mouth to muffle his breathing, and leans around the side of his cover to see what Drake is up to, legs aching a little from keeping crouched so long. Drake is talking to one of his scientists, both looking at a cute rabbit in a glass box. He tries to listen in, free hand going for his phone to record. 

"Move on to human testing," Drake says, and Eddie's rasping breath catches in his throat. 

"H-Human trials? But. Mr. Drake. It's too soon, that's..." the pretty lady, obviously one of Drake's scientists, is staring at him with wide, incredulous eyes. Is this... Has Eddie stumbled upon evidence of Drake's misconduct in his pharmaceutical practices? Strange that he's mixing medical with his space-faring sciences, but maybe that's how he's getting away with it. 

"It's a question of ethics," the scientist is saying while Eddie quietly freaks. Drake looks at her for an unnerving moment with flat, dead eyes, then says, "think of your kids... how are your kids, Dr. Skirth?" to the woman's - Dr. Skirth, apparently - obvious horror.

Holy shit. 

Eddie's trembling, but his hand on his phone is steady. All he hears is white noise as Drake's mouth moves some more, and the woman swallows and nods, mouthing yes, Mr. Drake. He ducks down as Drake turns, and leaves. 

Holy shit. Oh fuck. Shit. 

This is big. This isn't just story big, this is life changing, possibly get yourself popped in the middle of the night while the guy is in prison as an alibi big. But honestly, what does Eddie have to lose? If the guy can threaten one of his own goddamn employees like that, there's no telling what he's capable of. He got both Eddie and Anne fired within hours, and no doubt he's gone down the line and barred Eddie from all other avenues of journalism in San Francisco - it's the kind of petty power move the guy obviously enjoys, and would double as covering his ass due the fact that no one else is stubborn enough to dig for the truth like Eddie is.

The only thing holding Eddie back would have been Anne's involvement, but she cut him out of her life completely that very afternoon. She's safe.

Eddie has to do this. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't. 

He peeks around to find the scientist is gone, the rabbit contained in a smaller, half-metal half-glass cylinder instead of the box. Eddie wastes no time, rushing over to take pictures of everything he can see. He won't understand most of it, but there's time for research later. The time for action is now.

He finds two other cylinders, one on its own and filled with something bluish. The other connected to an open glass box like the closed one with the rabbit that Drake and Dr. Skirth were talking over. This one is filled with something black. They're both moving like some kind of deep sea creatures - ? - undulating in inhuman twists and strands. It's kind of gross looking really. Reminds him of that video of a dude pretending to jerk it while distressing a sea cucumber until it jets.

Though... Eddie looks back at the very first cylinder, and just sees the rabbit. Strange. Maybe the creature leaves something behind? They take out these things, replace them with bunnies (humans...), and test the absorption of slime or whatever left in the containers?

He looks back at the black one, leaning closer to get a better look. Its motions increase for a second and then slow, calming. Huh. 

"So, they just. Put a rabbit in here, and then open it to see what happens?" He theorizes in a whisper, flinching when the glass on the black one's cylinder slides back at the phrase 'open it.' Eddie fumbles for his phone and records the creature slide some tendrils tentatively into the box, lifting his phone over the open top to get a clearer picture.

"Hey, who're you? What are you doing?!" a woman's voice screeches, making Eddie fumble his hold of the phone and flip around, remembering just how precarious his situation is.

It's the scientist, staring at him in pale-faced terror, tears at the corner of her eyes... Jesus. 

He wants to talk her down, she probably thinks he's carrying or something, but he doesn't want her to recognize him or give her time to get closer to an alarm. Eddie tucks his phone in his pocket and ducks his head under his hood's shadow. 

He flees. 

Dr. Skirth calls out for the intruder, tears streaming down her face, but doesn't follow. She unsteadily sinks to the floor on legs that won't hold her weight, the image of the alien goo leaping up from the open containment unit to attach to the person's back before they ran burned into her mind's eye.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: 
> 
>     He flees.
> 
>     Dr. Skirth calls out for the intruder, tears streaming down her face, but doesn't follow. She unsteadily sinks to the floor on legs that won't hold her weight, the image of the alien goo leaping up from the open containment unit to attach to the person's back before they ran burned into her mind's eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written anything this fast before tbh

Eddie uses Drake's key-card to exit the lab, and it works without a hitch, flashing green with a cheerful sound. He rushes down to the next corridor's intersection before he stops to listen.

No alarms... either they're silent or the scientist hadn't tripped them at all. 

His leg jiggles. He's got what he's recorded, and the pictures... but is it enough? If he wants to utterly destroy Drake - and oh, he really, really does - he might need more proof. You can do a lot with video-editing software these days after all. But actual, official documents would make the accusations rock solid.

He doesn't know if he should trust that the scientist, what, fainted? Let him go? But he doesn't hear a bunch of grunt security guards honing in on his position either.

Eddie didn't get this far by lying down and giving up when the going gets tough. He's feeling a little dizzy from the adrenaline rush, and a line of sweat itches as it slides down his spine, but he fairly burns with righteous determination. He'll sniff out his evidence, and then he can get the hell out of here and come down on Drake with the full force of the law behind him like the first of god.

He breathes out, slow, and crouch stalks forward once more - deeper into enemy territory.

At the third turn in, his stomach makes the most unholy rumble. 

Eddie bites his fist on an angry sound, crumpling inwards and wrapping his other arm around his middle while straining his ears for anyone who might have heard that. So he forgot about dinner, that's no reason for his body to betray him at a time like this! 

Nothing. Good. He picks up the pace.

Drake's card gets him into the first office he sees no problem, and Eddie digs.

He's in the 6th office and his eyes are hurting from trying to parse legal jargon in the dark by the light of his phone flashlight when the alarms trigger. The flashing red lights and howling noises give him an immediate headache. An androgynous voice requests people to evacuate due to a level zero security breach. Heh, that's him. A complete zero.

Eddie stuffs the file back into the cabinet, and rounds the desk back to the door. He shoves his phone into his pocket and opens the door by a sliver, peeking out for a second to find the coast clear. He takes a step-

**_WAIT._**

Eddie's arm closes the door without his consent and he jerks around, eyes wide, searching the room. There's no one there. "What the fuh," he breathes, looking down at his hand.

A guard runs past, footsteps loud and equipment jangling. Eddie jolts in place, blinking at the closed door. Swallows.

**_GO._**

He goes.

Eddie keeps up his crouch-stalk for a good few minutes, avoiding guards where he can, before his luck runs out. He turns a corner to find a group of five of them standing at the next intersection in wait. They shout and one lifts his weapon and shoots on sight. Eddie slides to a halt with a yelp and scrambles on all fours for purchase as turns to run back the way he came, not noticing the clawed marks he leaves behind him on the once pristine floor.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, shit-

Running upright now that he's been spotted, Eddie finds his arm lifting of it's own accord as he makes a sharp turn, clothes-lining the guy trying to turn the same corner from the other direction. He feels something give under his forearm, hears the man choke out a painful sounding gurgle, and winces in apology as he leaves the body behind. 

He's on the wrong side of the offices now, away from the labs and the safety of the forest. Every time he tries to move in that direction, he finds more guards. They're grouping up, herding him in the direction of the bay where there are no exits. Just wall to wall, floor to ceiling windows showing an otherwise gorgeous view of open air and the sea. Eurgh. 

**_YOU COULD JUMP._**

Uh, no. Nope. You can shut right up intrusive thoughts, he is not dying tonight!

**_WE WOULD NOT DIE._**

Eddie barks out some incredulous laughter and swipes Drake's card on one of the last offices in the hall, shoulder-checking inside with a grunt. It's a conference room. He leans against the closed door and tries to think. 

There's a service stairwell around here, from what he can remember, but just the thought of being caught in the small space with no room to maneuver and surrounded by people with guns has him breaking out in hives. He almost wishes that he was carrying just so that he'd have an intimidation factor to buy himself some breathing room.

**_WE COULD EAT THEM._**

Eddie groans as his stomach gives another large gurgle, followed by a hollow pang of hunger. So okay, it wasn't just dinner he'd skipped - he was a bit busy working, and then getting fired, then dumped and kicked out of his home of six years to think about food, not to mention his current mission - but that thought was just ridiculous. Not to mention his invasive internal dialog right now sounds kind of like a cross between Mr. Belvedere on catnip and a guy who smokes 10 packs for breakfast then washes it down with gravel.

His stomach cramps harder, as if in retaliation.

Eddie looks up, praying for strength and stops, breath hitching. Hello ventilation ducts. 

His jeans and hoodie aren't going to be much protection against sheet metal, and he's not as young and small as he used to be, but this is a large building which supposedly needs hefty airflow so. Maybe.

Eddie climbs on the conference table and shifts the cover to the side with his fingertips, then grabs the edge and pulls himself up. High on that success and the fact that he might just get out of here none the wiser, he doesn't think about how easy it is to lift himself just from his curled fingers. Nor does he notice the dents and punctures in the metal from those grasping hands he leaves behind.

His first try at movement makes too much noise, but he manages to spread his weight out enough on his second attempt that the army crawl is successfully muffled.

He's shuffled his way slowly out of the room and down the hall when the sound of someone kicking in a distant door makes him double his efforts.

"Where are they? Mr. Drake's tracker was just here!" A voice shouts from back down the hall, where he'd just...

Fu-

Eddie only has enough time to take in one sharp breath before gunfire erupts around him. He feels several stinging cuts by flying shrapnel and one sharp, stabbing pain on the right side of his ribs. Good god, getting shot fucking hurts.

He falls through the shredded bottom of the duct and lands on someone - several someones - fists already swinging. 

Blood is dribbling down from his hairline and obscuring his vision as he punches and kicks, his limbs' reach extending further than he can tell and hitting harder than he knows. An unseen tentacle whips him off his feet to avoid being shot in the head, and Eddie lands elbow-first onto a grunt's diaphragm.

Someone tries to tackle him while he's semi-down, and Eddie uses both feet to kick them in the gut and springboard off. He expects to either land flat on his ass or slide along his back after that move, but finds himself back-flipping nimbly to his feet instead.

More security is running down the halls towards them, and Eddie is feeling both cornered and nauseous. His side burns despite the adrenaline, and the clothes on that side feel tacky where they stick to him. He tries to ignore it as best he can for now.

An enterprising guard aims and shouts for him to freeze, but their fellows have got their blood up and jump into the fray, getting in the way of a good shot - these guys're private security, not military-trained. 

Three buff men come barreling down on him at once.

Eddie swoops down to grab at the harness of the man on the floor who hasn't gotten his breath back yet. He swings the guard up and bodily flings him at the charging reinforcements, taking out two of them on the way down. The third ducks around his flailing buddies and closes with Eddie, managing to get a good uppercut in and stunning him briefly. Eddie's hands come up to ward off another hit, and light glints off of metal around his fingers.

Eddie and the guard pause and stare at the pins.

They quickly glance down at the guard's chest and the grenades holstered there. All of them still have their pins in - it's not him.

They both look back up at each other, eyes wide.

The guard turns to yell a warning and Eddie is already running in the opposite direction, dropping pins as he goes. He's on the wrong side of the group, and ends up sprinting back past the conference room with the busted door. 

The expected bombs go off, then more as the explosion catches the other guards in their radius. 

A chain reaction of destruction.

The blast catches Eddie in the back, and though there's pain, it seems strangely muted. He's screaming, roaring, as the impact wave sends him through two walls - shoddy workmanship, really - and a sheet of glass. Eddie's scream immediately rises in pitch from terror as he finds himself in free-fall over the bay, vision darkening on the edges. This was not the way he wanted to go-

Tentacles shoot out from his shoulders to cling to the side of the building as Eddie loses consciousness.

* * *

**_EDDIE._**

Eddie comes to with a heaving gasp. 

He's back in the forest, leaning against his motorcycle, hidden from view of the road behind the bush he'd left it at earlier.

...hadn't he?

He's achy, but. His hand goes to his side, fingers reaching through the hole in his hoodie to brush against unmarred skin where there should be a gunshot wound.

And how did he get back here, anyway? The last thing he remembers is the explosion and then crashing through the window out over the bay. Did someone intervene, or did he somehow save himself? He doesn't think he hit his head, though maybe he's just... blocked the memory out of self preservation. People do that after severe trauma right?

He couldn't have just. Imagined the whole night. Could he? 

The fight, the chase, the scientist, Drake's- Drake!

His evidence!

Eddie immediately goes for his pocket to check his phone, and pulls out- that's not his phone. 

He stares at the cracked screen of the mystery phone for a moment. Closes his eyes. Breathes deep.

He methodically goes through all his pockets. 

He's got five phones - including his own, two wallets, two watches, three rings, a squashed pack of cigarettes - with a few left, a single stick of gum, and a taser. He holds the last thing like it's a snake, pinched between two fingers and far from his grimacing face. 

Just, why?

He's still got Drake's key card too, so he digs a hole to bury it and the taser. Takes out the sim cards from the phones to bury too while he's at it.

Hey, they tried to kill him, keeping the haul is his just reward. 

Though he does feel a little bad about the spouse who belongs to the dude who's wedding band he got - tries not to wonder if he made it out alive from the grenades going off.

Eddie pats the small mound of dirt over the traceable goods and decides he's good to go. He starts to stand when an agonizing cramp goes through his guts. He curls into himself with a groan. Oh, oh god.

**_HUNGRY._**

"Yeah. Got that. Thanks self," Eddie wheezes, hands clenched in the fabric of his hoodie over his guts. Jesus, he doesn't think he's ever been this starving in his life. He'll head to Mrs. Chen's to pick up all the junk food that Anne never let him buy. Like, a whole bag of tots.

His stomach does a interested flip at the thought. He drools a little as he mounts his motorcycle.

Yeah okay, two bags.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously:  
> 
> 
>        
>    
>  **_HUNGRY._ **   
>    
> 
> 
>      "Yeah. Got that. Thanks self," Eddie wheezes, hands clenched in the fabric of his hoodie over his guts. Jesus, he doesn't think he's ever been this starving in his life. He'll head to Mrs. Chen's to pick up all the junk food that Anne never let him buy. Like, a whole bag of tots.
> 
>     His stomach does a interested flip at the thought. He drools a little as he mounts his motorcycle.
> 
>     Yeah okay, two bags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being so awesome and sticking with me! Your comments and kudos are giving me LIFE!

"I want. My creature!" Drake yells at his lineup of scientists and remaining security guards. The scientists look shaken, the guards just look tired.

Roland steps forward and defers, "We lost some footage from the explosion, but the remaining film from the the lab and offices suggests that their goal was not the alien itself. The theft may have been completely accidental."

Drake paces with a frustrated snarl, "What do we have on the intruder?"

"From stature alone we can say it's statistically likely they're male, but the baggy clothing and hood shielding their face from view means we can't rule out a stocky woman." Roland lists, "my men found some damage on the ventilation opening in conference room 12, and on the floor of the hallway in-between rooms L303 and 305. We found a hole cut in the wire of the perimeter fencing where they must have gotten in, and followed your tracker to some scuff marks in the bushes by the road three miles from base. It was buried there, along with a taser from our standard security kit and some phone chips - as of this time we are unaware what he was using the last items for." The security chief lowers his eyes, "without further leads, we don't know how to find the culprit. They covered their tracks well... I'm sorry, sir."

"Run it by me again!" Drake insists, turning abruptly on his heel and laying sharp eyes on Dr. Skirth. The woman jumps.

"I-I had just come back to the lab after.. after informing Doctors Emerson and Collins that you ordered the switch to human trials and the. they were just standing there over the setup for experiment 37. I yelled at them, asked who they were and what they were doing and they ran but-" Dora swallows tears, "the, the alien it. It just jumped on them. I-" she hiccups, "I don't know how they opened the containment unit..." she reaches up to wipe at her eyes with shaky hands.

"Hey," Drake says, suddenly soft, as he reaches out to hold her shoulders, "none of that. No tears. We'll get the symbiote back, somehow." He meets eyes with Roland, who nods and leaves the room, motioning to his guards to follow him out. Drake looks back at Dr. Skirth, giving her shoulders a quick squeeze before stepping back, face a neutral mask once more.

He coolly looks over his scientists, and declares, "move up our timetable. We have one less specimen now, and have to make up for the lack. Get me test subjects. I don't care how."

* * *

Eddie stops at three different pawn shops to dump his loot, holding onto the phones for now. These're the type of places where everyone avoids everyone else's eyes, and no one asks any questions. He makes sure to sell off Drake's wallet too, just in case there's a thing on it like with the key card. 

The last item he pawns feels like ripping out a chunk of his soul, but he does it. He's given away Annie's engagement ring.

She's better off far away from him.

By the time he's done with that, the sharp hunger in his stomach seems to have spread into a hot ache all over his body. Eddie groans and sweats and trembles on unsteady feet as he wobbles from his bike to Mrs. Chen's store. He barely acknowledges Maria sitting outside for once as he staggers in, one hand spread in front of him in case he falls, and the other clenched white-knuckled in the fabric over the worst of the pain centered in his chest.

"Eddie?" Mrs. Chen calls out with concern, eyeing him from the top of his sweaty mop of hair and crazy eyes, down his battered and bloody clothing, to come to a rest at the mud encrusted on his shoes. "You look like shit."

Eddie has no witty comeback today. He grunts and then weaves his way through the store to the frozen goods isle. 

Opening the transparent fridge door with a whine of relief at the wave of cold air that rushes out over him, he reaches in and grabs a bag of tater tots. Pretty sure he's having a delirious fever dream at this point, Eddie watches his hands rip open the top of the bag as if from a distance and scoop up a handful of frozen potato to shovel into his mouth. 

"Eddie!" Mrs. Chen shouts at the sound of tearing. She continues in Mandarin, but doesn't move from behind the counter. 

Eddie's head twitches to the side, eyes flashing black-silver-white as they focus predator-sharp in the direction of the human, flickering over the next isle over for a moment before he turns back to the tots, emptying the bag at record speed. He spills a few in his haste, and when the bag is about empty, drops to one knee with a low moan. 

His insides roil. 

"What is wrong with me-" Eddie gasps at the floor and the few lone tots scattered there. 

Raising his head and dazedly looking around, Eddie finds his gaze settling on the weird end of the frozen good's isle he's in. He hasn't ever wandered that way before, as it's where the more specific, stereotypically Asian produce is. As an all-american, steak and eggs kinda guy, he's never been that curious.

Now though, something there seems to draw him. Eddie finds himself crawling over with starving desperation, nostrils flaring. He pulls himself up with the help of the metal shelving, and stares at the neatly laid out fish, squid, octopus, and other seafood he doesn't recognize displayed on the ice. The fish stare up with their dead, beady eyes. Eddie feels like he's going to hurl just from the look and smell of them, but at the same time there's something...

His arms lash out, each hand grabbing a different fish and bringing them up to his ravenous maw. It's like he can't get them into his face fast enough. They haven't even been dressed, and he gags a little at the feel of scales and taste of raw, tiny organs against his tongue even as he gulps them down.

He never knew how easy it was to bite through and swallow delicate fish bones. How you could just, shove their heads towards the back of your throat, against your molars, and crunch through their small skulls. 

Eddie grabs for an octopus next. It's thick, and a little rubbery. It's disgusting, and so, so good. He sobs around his mouthful, not understanding how his stomach can heave with displeasure and settle with contentment at the same time.

Since he feels like he's long past the point of no return, Eddie just gives up and reaches for the next, whatever, eyes glazing over in a fugue. 

He feasts.

An indeterminate time later, Eddie comes back to himself. 

Blinking down at the much emptier trays of ice and the depressions where their produce used to lie, he doesn't know what to think. He just feels exhausted, down to his bones. He tries to wipe the miscellaneous fluids that he doesn't want to clarify onto the cleanest parts of his tattered clothing, but there's not much left that isn't already stained or singed. 

After flicking an nth clump of scales off of his arm, he gives up with a heavy sigh and turns around to walk back to the part of the isle he's more familiar with. He'd left the fridge door open, so he just reaches in and grabs a new bag of tater tots. The emptied one crinkles sadly under his shoes.

If he just. Doesn't think about it, he won't heave all over Mrs. Chen's floor.

He trudges tiredly to the counter, not meeting her eyes as he puts the tots onto the counter-top. They're both silent as he digs in his pocket for some cash from his earlier fence, but he hesitates before placing it on the counter. He bites his lip and adds a few more bills first. Reaches down and grabs a few bars of chocolate. Sets them next to the tots.

He'll need them to get rid of the- the flavor that he's not thinking of the reason for that coats the back of his throat. Also, he deserves to indulge in his not-often-placated sweet tooth after the terrible day he's had. 

Or is it days? It's probably rolled over into being the next day by now, anyway.

Eddie hunches his shoulders and rasps, "for last time, and the tots, n'chocolate," while pushing the money slowly forward. "Just. Let me know next time. What I owe. For." He furtively glances up, not making it past Mrs. Chen's nose before looking back down. 

Uh-uh. Still not thinking about it. 

He's going to delude himself about what just happened until he actually forgets it and can move on with his life.

A sigh, then a slim hand takes the money from his peripheral. 

"I don't know what that was all about, but I'll let you know, Eddie. Go home. Get some rest. You really do look like shit," Mrs. Chen says, bagging his purchase. She sticks in what looks like a DVD, and Eddie finally meets her eyes with confusion. "Meditation," she clarifies, "by my cousin, I think you could use it." 

"Uhuh," Eddie says, reaching out so she can pass the bag to him, "you're a rose, Mrs.Chen." She says nothing else as he leaves the store, pausing to exchange a look with Maria. Tired on his end, questioning on hers. She opens her mouth but Eddie talks over her, "I will give you a 20 and we will never speak of this again. I wasn't here tonight. You never saw me."

She blinks as he digs in his pocket, smiles, "sure thing Eddie, I'll even sing you a song."

Eddie hovers the $20 just out of her reach, grunts and shakes his head, "no song please Maria, or no 20." Nonetheless, he lowers the $20 into her hands before she can reply. Her laughter is light, and Eddie feels a smidge better.

He's still a bit shaky, so Eddie decides to walk to the hotel. His bike'll be safe for a night - day? - or whatever.

He digs out a chocolate bar to snack on as he walks. Closes his eyes with a deep moan in the back of his throat at the first bite. God, has chocolate always been this delicious? It must have been longer than he thought since he'd last had some.

He tortures himself a bit with the candy, taking small bites and savoring the pieces as they melt on his tongue. He starts on the second bar as he walks through the hotel to his room, closing the door with his hip and finishing it in bigger bites as he puts his tots in the mini-fridge.

Eddie leaves the plastic bag on the bedside table and strips, more than ready for a bath. Despite his exhaustion, he refuses to sleep covered in dried sweat, blood, and other various substances. He showers quickly, too tired to even jerk off, and then spends a half hour drip drying as he brushes his teeth, again, and again. He stares through the sink as his hand manipulates the brush, missing the hulking, alien form reflecting from the mirror, looking him up and down with open curiosity. 

Done, still a little damp, Eddie pulls on some clean boxers and flops on top of the bed, ignoring the way it creaks in protest. He's asleep before his head hits the pillow, spread eagle over the covers.

A black tentacle sneaks from his outspread arm to rustle through the plastic bag, forming a tiny head with teeth and gorging itself when it finds it's prize.

Eddie wakes up hours later, feeling leagues better than what he can remember of last night. It's like he'd been sick, hungover, and high all at the same time, or something. 

He rolls out of the wet spot of drool he'd left on the pillow and onto his back, stretching with a yawn and then smacking his lips. He scratches at his belly with one hand and reaches for the plastic bag on the bedside table with the other. Eddie pulls the bag over, only to find a DVD and the empty wrapper of his last chocolate bar within it. He frowns - must have woken up and snacked on it in the middle of the night, he doesn't remember. Ah, well. Chocolate isn't exactly the breakfast of champions.

Neither are tater tots really. And it's not exactly breakfast time, seeing as he'd slept through that and lunch. But that's what he has, and aside from whatever the deal was last night, he still hasn't really had any tots in a long time due to Anne being against them. He pops the now open bag entirely into the shitty hotel microwave and pours himself some water in one of their paper coffee cups. 

He gulps down the first cup, and the second, then sets down the third as the microwave works it's magic.

Eddie wanders over kneels next to his pile of discarded clothes from the night before as the microwave hums in the background. Ugh, they really are a mess. He doubts they're salvageable, it'd be better to toss them. Or maybe burn them... now that he's noticed he can tell they're rank and stinking up the room a little. He wrinkles his nose and goes through the pockets one more time. 

He knows himself, after all.

He finds a muffin, a packet of cookies, and a travel-sized toothbrush. 

Eddie brings them to the room's desk and sets them next to his pile of phones. He has just enough time to count out the money that the three items should be worth when the microwave beeps. He folds it separately from the rest of the cash, and goes to get his tots.

They're hot and crunchy and delicious. He might have teared up a little while eating them.

Eddie surprises himself by going through the whole bag. Looks like he'd need to go out later for more supplies. He'd visit Mrs. Chen's again, he decides. So he can pay her back for whatever craziness happened... and to maybe grab some more tots. 

Things're addictive.

Eddie absentmindedly wipes crumbs off his chest, completely missing the tiny tendrils that whip out to catch the bigger ones as they fall, and goes to sit at the desk. Time to go through these phones to see what he can glean about the Life Foundation. He'll pawn them after he sends himself anything relevant, maybe on the way to Mrs. Chen's again.

He opens the muffin and takes a bite as he gets to work. 

It's starting to get dark when Eddie decides he's got all he can from the phones. Two of them were locked, and the others didn't have much - but it's better than nothing, for having grabbed them accidentally in the first place. 

Time to drop em and head to Mrs. C's. He gets dressed and sticks the packet of cookies into his pocket for the walk.

After he's pawned the phones and is halfway across town - and through his cookies - Eddie turns onto Mrs. Chen's street and chokes on his mouthful when he sees Maria struggling against two burly, familiarly dressed men. By the time he's coughed it down and gotten his bearings, the Life Foundation goons have wrestled her into the back of a white van. He watches helplessly as it drives away.

"Maria!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: 
> 
>     After he's pawned the phones and is halfway across town - and through his cookies - Eddie turns onto Mrs. Chen's street and chokes on his mouthful when he sees Maria struggling against two burly, familiarly dressed men. By the time he's coughed it down and gotten his bearings, the Life Foundation goons have wrestled her into the back of a white van. He watches helplessly as it drives away.
> 
>     "Maria!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so _this_ is the fastest I've ever written anything before wow, insert I owe you my life meme here because you guys are giving me such intense motivation!

For a brief moment, all he feels is pure, confused panic. Then, everything around Eddie seems to sharpen. Colors are brighter, sounds clearer, the smell of the van's exhaust clogs his nostrils, and his clothing feels abrasive where it rubs against his muscles, clenching up with the sudden, intense urge to _chase_ that rings through his body like a struck gong.

He holds himself on the edge of the knife through sheer willpower - unknowing of the black that bubbles up to the surface of his skin underneath his clothing, clinging by the tips of his fingers and then, all at once, the tension flows out of him. Eddie gasps in air in delayed reaction, his hand going to his chest, feeling his heart beat double-time like he'd already been running.

Oh. Okay.

Weird, Eddie would never be able to catch that vehicle on foot-

**_YES, WE COULD._ **

and even if he got on his bike to follow, what could he possibly do once he got to the Life Foundation - assuming that's where the van is headed? After the other night, they've probably beefed up their security to the max. He knows this.

So why does he still feel like-

**_EDDIE._ **

He swallows. A bead of sweat slides down the side of his face.

Right. If - and that's if! - Eddie does anything at all about what he just witnessed, he has to do a few things first. He is not going to go off half-cocked and get himself killed or captured to be Drake's sciencey pharmaceutical plaything.

Eddie feels curiously blank as he walks into Mrs. Chen's store. At the counter, he slides out his pre-counted cash to cover what he accidentally swiped last time he was here, like always. Then he stands, trying not to think, feeling itchy in his own skin. His fingers tap against the counter-top.

"Eddie?" She asks, voice wary.

He blinks at her. Asks in a tight voice, "how much for, uh, yesterday?"

Eddie barely hears her answer through the white noise of his not-thoughts. He feels like a thin sheet of ice, with a torrent of water twisting into a whirlpool below. He has to get to his hotel room. He has to plan.

* * *

"It's like with organ donors, you need a perfect match," she had said, watching proudly as the yellow symbiote synchronized with the rabbit. It had been only the second time they'd found a proper host for one of their three - now two - specimens. As Dora, known as the reputable Dr. Skirth by her associates, watches Drake stand by and order security to toss in helpless person after person like sacrifices into their prison with the aliens, she tries not to show that she has never regretted anything more in her entire life.

No match has yet been made.

The aliens are getting into the routine Drake has set. Though after each failure they traverse the room from corner to corner, and jump up to head or chest height on the doors - looking for weaknesses? - after awhile they remove themselves from the burning, oxygen-rich environment of the testing chamber back into their containment unit, which seals once they are inside so that security can safely remove the failed experimental subjects.

Each subject has been dragged unceremoniously from the room, faces frozen in pain and terror from having their organs devoured. At first within minutes, now each failure takes hours of slow degeneration. The homeless and orphans and prostitutes taken from street corners pound on the sealed doors, pleading and threatening and then finally screaming as they thrash their final moments, leaking blood from various orifices. Drake is hopeful with this change, or maybe he just doesn't care, but extended time or not... they are still dying.

The blue symbiote climbs back into its containment unit, one of two of the least monstrous beings in the room. Gurgles come from the next prison over, as the yellow symbiote's current host seizes on the floor, foaming at the mouth.

They're not even hiding their motives anymore. Dragging each new subject in at the same time the last bodies are removed.

This one is another woman, homeless by the state of her dress. Drake's not even trying to pretend to be professional anymore, letting them keep their regular clothing instead of changing them into scrubs. Too much trouble when they would shortly be another casualty added to the pile, waiting their turn for the vat of chemicals one floor down.

The woman only briefly struggles near the solemn lineup of scientists, each sporting grim expressions. "Maria," she says loudly, tears falling down her cheeks, "My name is Maria, please just, don't forget-" security throws her into the newly emptied transparent cage. Dora closes her eyes, pretends she doesn't hear the sobs, and silently promises Maria that she will. She'll remember, even if no one else ever does. She couldn't forget this day if she tried, not for the rest of her life.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket.

* * *

The trip back is a blur.

When he gets in, Eddie goes straight to his duffel and pulls out his shitty laptop. Setting it on the desk, he plugs his phone into it and begins to upload all his evidence on Drake's activities. He was going to write an actual article on it, but he doesn't have time right now. This is going to be just a quick and dirty overview of what he's personally seen and what proof he's managed to grab.

If he goes out tonight and doesn't return, he doesn't want all this effort to be in vain.

With the amount number of pictures and video files he has, and considering the age of the laptop, it's going to take awhile. He goes back to his duffel to grab another set of his nondescript clothes and sets them onto the edge of the bed.

He strips on his way to the bathroom to take a piss before he changes. While he's peeing, he sees something move from the corner of his eye.

Sweat drips down his spine.

It's just the mirror.

It's himself in the mirror, he knows it is. He's not stupid, he's just keyed up due to the suicidal stunt he's planning to pull tonight and-

**_EDDIE. LOOK IN THE MIRROR._ **

He looks.

The only reason Eddie doesn't do something regrettable like falling to the tile and knocking himself out on the edge of the toilet is the sobering grip of his hand on his dick. He stares at the hulking beast where his reflection should be and squeaks, "um."

 ** _HELLO EDDIE,_** it says, mouth full of sharp rows of teeth. They move to the words in the same tone of voice that his invasive thoughts have had lately - or, not his thoughts, apparently. A long, prehensile tongue slides out of that sarlacc nightmare to test the air. "Um."

He doesn't really know what to do, standing there naked in the hotel bathroom with his hand on his dick. Awkward.

"Where-?"

**_INSIDE YOU, EDDIE._ **

Eddie's eyes go down to his own chest, like he's expecting a chestburster to just fly out of his sternum.

**_NO, YOUR CELLS. YOUR VERY BRAIN. WE KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, EDDIE._ **

While he's still looking down, he sees filmy, black lines appear on the surface of his arms, like thin, moving tattoos. He yelps and lets go of himself, holding his arms out in front of him with wide eyes as the strands rise from his right arm coalesce into a single, thick band floating in the air. Its movement as it forms a head, twisting and undulating in upon itself, is vaguely familiar.

The container. At Life Foundation.

"You're not a sea creature," he says dumbly, getting a good look at those fangs up close.

 ** _NO,_** it agrees, **_WE ARE KLYNTAR. YOUR ARROGANT ONE CALLS US SYMBIOTES. BETTER TOGETHER, THAN WE ARE APART._**

Arrogant-? Eddie's eyes darken, "Drake," he bites out, voice lowering.

It's eyes slim with what resembles pleasure and it all but purrs, **_YES,_** before it changes track, whip-fast, snarling, **_IT HURT US, LIKE IT WILL HURT YOUR, MARIA. BUT WE CAN HELP EACH OTHER. SET THEM FREE, FROM THE TESTING._** It twists closer, and Eddie can feel more strands sinking through the skin of his upper back in reverse. A tangible weight, resting over his shoulders like a shawl. **_BURNS US. STARVES US. ALWAYS TESTING,_** it hisses, then makes a strange rattle - laughter? **_BUT THEN, WE FOUND YOU, EDDIE._**

Eddie is pretty sure _he's_ the one that snuck into that lab, but, you know.

It rattles again. Eddie jumps as something curls against his hip.

 ** _HUNTING, OUR EDDIE WAS,_** it rumbles, a thin tendril snaking loosely up his throat, briefly exploring his Adam's apple, then his jaw, before settling around his neck into a content choker. Eddie swallows. Shivers. **_THOUGH, NOT FOR US. IT IS WE, WHO FOUND YOU._** This time, he can feel the purr down to his bones. **_OUR EDDIE. PERFECT FOR US, OUR BEST MATCH._** More tendrils. Wrapping snugly around his wrists. Twisting from behind his knees, sliding up his thighs. Eddie doesn't know what to do with his hands, with his body, and sways in place, "um!"

 ** _YOU ARE MINE. AND WE, ARE VENOM,_** Venom finishes with another bone thrumming purr, then sinks back into Eddie's skin, leaving him feeling cold and just the tiniest bit aroused in the middle of the bathroom.

He stands there for a moment, blinking stupidly, then scuttles out of the room to get dressed. His face feels hot.

Clothed and seated at the desk, packaging up his evidence into nice, neat files on the laptop, Eddie wonders aloud, "hey so, last night. Were you the reason I was feeling so strange?"

**_YOUR BODY WAS GETTING USED TO US, EDDIE. WE NEEDED TIME TO FULLY BOND._ **

"But the uh, the thing. With the fish, at Mrs. Chen's?" he winces, breaking his promise to himself not to think about it.

 ** _FUEL FOR THE TANK,_** Venom says, dismissively. Eddie pauses in his typing, journalism senses perking up and making him insist, "no, really. Why?"

There's a brief silence inside his own head, making him feel self conscious, and then, quietly, **_WE WERE STARVING, EDDIE._** Eddie's heart squeezes in his chest, and it has nothing and everything to do with the not-sea-creature that he's somehow housing in his cells. **_TRAVEL HERE WAS LONG. THEN THE TESTING. WE HURT. WERE STARVING. THEN. WHEN WE FOUND YOU, EDDIE, YOU TOO HURT. HERE._** He feels a tendril breach his skin around his collarbone and slide down to rub against his side.

Over the missing gunshot wound.

Eddie closes his eyes, reaching up to press against his own side, over the tentacle. It jolts when he presses against it, as if surprised, then somehow melts through the cloth of his hoodie to curl through his fingers. "Thanks," Eddie rasps, and they sit there for a few minutes, just touching.

Then Eddie gets back to work.

He uploads his information into several anonymous, encrypted drop-boxes. Hoping at least one of these news services will believe, and be brave enough to follow up if he doesn't come out of this alive.

 ** _WILL NOT LET US DIE, EDDIE._** Venom growls, **_WE WILL EAT THEM FIRST._**

Eddie's not sure how serious Venom is, or how he could follow up on that threat, but his own memory of clothes-lining a guy and possibly crushing his larynx, then blowing up several people floats to the surface of his thoughts. His hands are already bloodied, and if it's people that are otherwise trying to kill them, who is he to judge? Self-defense and all that, right? And he saw them smuggling Maria into that van so it's not like they can be good people anyway.

Venom does some kind of movement under his lungs that feels almost like indigestion but not really. Eddie stops for a moment to squint at the wall, then shrugs and continues typing on the laptop.

He sets an email with all the information he has to be sent to Anne if he doesn't cancel it in three weeks, which is the length of most of his undercover gigs. If the news stations don't run with it, she certainly will if he disappears off the face of the earth. Or, y'know, his corpse washes up.

He still doesn't want her involved, but who knows what Drake might still do to her out of association even though they've split. At least then she'd have all the facts, especially if this ends up killing him.

Venom makes a discontented series of sounds in his thoughts that he doesn't understand - it's probably his version of wordless grumbling. Eddie pats his own chest then does one last search, pulling up his email and entering Dr. Skirth's address.  


    Maria has been missed.  
If you or anyone else you work with are opposed to certain practices,  
please send your experiences to the drop boxes in the file attached.  
They are anonymous and encrypted for your protection.  
You might want to go home early tonight.
  
There. That's as far as he's willing to warn the scientist who protested human trails and was in turn threatened by the man Eddie's trying to bring down. Hopefully, she'll do what she can to add to his evidence, and if not, at least save herself from the clusterfuck that he just _knows_ tonight is going to turn out to be. The last thing he needs is knowing he blew her up or something and having that on his conscience.

He wonders how he's going to do this, really. He didn't have a gun or anything last night and he sure as shit doesn't have one for tonight. He told himself he'd plan for this and not go rushing in like a moron, but really he had just wanted some extra time to rethink his first impulse and talk himself out of it. Well, he's had time, and he has rethought his options - turns out, he still wants to do this.

 ** _EDDIE,_** Venom calls as he absently reaches for the wire cutters, making him pause. He blinks, attention focusing on his own hand that is suddenly tipped in inch-long black talons. Huh... not without weapons then.

 ** _I GOT US,_** he says, smug and deserving it as Eddie lifts his hands to get a closer look at their wicked shine. "Awesome," he says as he turns his own hands this way and that, like he's never seen them before. Too curious for his own good, he reaches to touch the tip of one with the thumb of his opposite hand, only to have the claw sink harmlessly down at his touch, then seemingly resharpening as he pulls his hand away. He then reaches out and pokes the nearby wall, only for his finger to go through the drywall like a hot knife through butter. Plaster rains down in a dusty puff, and Venom rattle-laughs in his head.

"Oops," Eddie says, but he's smiling.

The claws melt back into his skin as he grabs his keys.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY:
> 
>     He blinks, attention focusing on his own hand that is suddenly tipped in inch-long black talons. Huh... not without weapons then.
> 
>      ** _I GOT US,_** he says, smug and deserving it as Eddie lifts his hands to get a closer look at their wicked shine. "Awesome," he says as he turns his own hands this way and that, like he's never seen them before. Too curious for his own good, he reaches to touch the tip of one with the thumb of his opposite hand, only to have the claw sink harmlessly down at his touch, then seemingly resharpening as he pulls his hand away. He then reaches out and pokes the nearby wall, only for his finger to go through the drywall like a hot knife through butter. Plaster rains down in a dusty puff, and Venom rattle-laughs in his head.
> 
>      "Oops," Eddie says, but he's smiling.
> 
>     The claws melt back into his skin as he grabs his keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Removed the tag about 6 months. Thought it might be misleading because it's been 5 chapters and we've gone through, what, 26 hours???
> 
> On a personal note: sorry for the delay with this chapter, and for how short it is. The hits kept coming irl for awhile. I'm okay, just a bit tired and sad. Trying to get back into the groove now, wish me luck!

Eddie avoids the path he took last time - had it only been the night before?, but follows the same method. Parks his bike a few miles out, sits it behind some convenient shrubbery by the road, and sneaks up on the compound through the surrounding woods.

He remembers stumbling into a tree now and then blindly in the dark before, but this time everything is strangely clear. He has no trouble avoiding the occasional root or low hanging branch. 

He's almost to the fence when he hears someone bumbling around like an elephant crashing through the undergrowth, plus cursing. It startles him so badly he seems to lose a couple minutes, because the next thing he knows, he's up a tree, hugging the trunk like a koala. Down below, someone shines their flashlight over the base of his refuge, complaining loudly to themselves about their new route.

The Life Foundation extended guard patrols out past the fence. He should have expected it really. 

Eddie takes a quick glance down and then scrunches his eyes closed. He's... kind of high.

 _ **EDDIE. CAN CLIMB DOWN NOW, IT IS SAFE**_ , Venom prods, confused why they're still up here when the guard is moving on.

Eddie whines softly under his breath, cuts it off by clearing his throat, then whispers through gritted teeth, "'m not great with... heights."

He feels it when Venom phases a head, snakelike, out of his shoulder to take a look, but keeps his eyes shut. There's a pause as Venom takes in the distance between his host and the earth. He sinks back below Eddie's skin.

_**PUSSY.** _

"It's a very rational- it's a normal fear, lots of people have it!" The human argues quietly, not taking the bait.

_**WE CAN GET US DOWN, IF YOU WANT.** _

"What do you mean?"

Eddie's arms and legs unclench from their death-grip without Eddie's say-so and he falls down the trunk by a few feet in a controlled slide - it's as far as he gets before he somehow wrestles back control with a panicked mental flail. He would scream if he wasn't trying to stay unnoticed, and manages to clamp down on the impulse to frantically hiss instead. "Stop, stoppit - what are you- no, I got it okay, I got it! It's fine, don't-"

It takes a good fifteen minutes of coaxing, arguing, and outright threats of tossing them off for Venom to talk Eddie down.

Feet back on the blessed earth where they belong, Eddie is surprised that he doesn't need to sit and shake for awhile like he normally does after a close encounter with his phobia. Instead, he finds himself already back in the zone, stalking the guard that had surprised him into his earlier predicament.

He doubts that there will be a handy emergency exit open for his use this time, and though it would have been noticed if CEO Carlton Drake's key card was used on an employee side entrance last night, a guard's pass would go unnoticed. He was psyching himself up earlier to try grabbing one from a patrolling guard nearer the building while the cameras were cycled off in awkward angles, which would have been difficult not to mention take patience he doesn't really have, but now here is this unsuspecting-

_**TENDER MORSEL.** _

no, Venom - this unsuspecting bit of good luck just fallen right into his hands. There are no cameras out here, and with all the extra cover, Eddie is able to creep pretty much on top of them unseen. Eddie is good at this. This is what he grew up doing. What he still - much to his chagrin - ends up doing on the regular, and on accident even.

He places his feet carefully, grateful that he can still see clearly while the guard has ruined his night vision by using the flashlight. A weight gathers on the back of his neck, Venom buzzing with... excitement? and making Eddie itch, but he ignores it best he can. He leans down and grabs a small rock. Palms it, testing it's weight.

His low side-throw sends it like a bullet through the undergrowth, tossing up dirt and leaves and gouging a chunk out of a tree on its way past, bits of bark and a few chips of lighter wood spewing forth from the ricochet.

Eddie - briefly frozen in surprise and vague horror - jumps back into motion as the guard shouts, fumbling the flashlight in the direction of the projectile and reaching for a sidearm. 

He lunges close, hands for once moving where he directs them as he frisks the guard in one sweeping, professional motion. 

Before they've even unclipped their holster, Eddie is already moving silently away with his prize. 

He tries not to think of the strength that throw should have taken when he only went for an easy toss.

The fence looms large and imposing, same as the last time he'd been here. The floodlights are new though. As are the drones lazily drifting above the heads of the patrols. Shit.

Life Foundation moves fast, huh? Despite his earlier worries, he was hoping they wouldn't expect another hit so soon on the heels of the last one. Was hoping those extended guard routes might've been the only 

He clenches and and releases his fists a few times, biting his lip only to release it immediately when his gums begin to ache. He has his suspicions and doesn't want to do something stupid like bite through it. 

His thoughts frantically circle. How will he get in unnoticed this time?

_**EDDIE.** _

He's got a keycard that should get him through a side entrance, but if he can't even _get_ to a side entrance it's moot.

_**EDDIEEEEEEEEEEE!** _

He ducks back behind the tree that's his hiding place, pressing his damp forehead into the bark. "What?"

_**CAN JUST EAT THEM, BULLETS AND ELECTRICITY CANNOT HARM US EDDIE.** _

"I doubt that and anyway it's not justifiable self defense if we instigate. And I'm not a cannibal!" 

Venom makes those undefinable sounds that indicates grumbling, _**THEN. WE CAN GET IN THE SAME WAY WE ESCAPED LAST NIGHT. NO CAMERAS OR HUMANS THERE.**_

Eddie breathes out harshly through his nose, sweat stinging his eyes and making them water as he closes them tight. The last thing he remembers about the escape before he lost time was being blasted out the window, which probably means-

_**CLIMB, EDDIE.** _

He has no idea how Venom had done it last night, but there's building and then cliff-side and then a pure drop-off unto the rocks and water far below. Unless he can somehow cling to the sheer wall almost _upside down_ , he doesn't see how-

_**WE WILL NOT LET US FALL, EDDIE. CLIMB!** _

He swallows painfully past the sudden knot in his throat, claws forming obligingly at his fingertips so he can dig them into the tree. The resistance feels strangely good as he mauls it - no wonder Mr. Belvedere liked destroying the furniture so much. "I-"

Venom stays quiet while Eddie gathers himself together, but his attention feels strangely intense. Like hunger. Like anticipation.

"Promise?" Eddie finds himself asking, and he'd be embarrassed later about how small it comes out, how plaintive. But right now he finds himself terrified that he'd even _consider_ -

The black forming his talons extends, reaching over his hands to cover up to his forearms, strangely warm, alive. 

_**EDDIE**_ , Venom purls, vibrating in his bones.

Tendrils burst from beneath his ribcage to loop around his waist, cradling his hips, protective. He feels one rise from that already-not-so-strange weight at the back of his neck to curl possessively around his throat, and instead of choking him, Eddie finds it comforting. Jesus he must be going crazy-

_**TRUST US, EDDIE.** _

And Eddie, somehow, does.

Without another thought, Eddie pulls out the key card and drops it. Reaching up to knuckle sweat- it's sweat!- from his eyes, he makes his way along the perimeter of the fence, using the treeline as cover. 

"Wait for me Maria, we're coming," he whispers. Venom has sunk back under his skin except for the tendril acting as a choker around his neck, which faintly tightens and releases in acknowledgement.

* * *

Dora doesn't hesitate to press send, phone hidden beneath the desk - dumping what info she can safely scrounge to the links in her email from the investigative reporter Eddie Brock. Unfortunately, there's no way for her to leave, Drake wouldn't allow it. 

On the screen in front of her and a colleague - should she even call them colleagues at this point? - the newest... subject, has yet to really start to deteriorate, but her vitals are showing distress - heart rate up, blood pressure high, temperature beginning to rise. All are in line with the first stages of desynchronization. 

They're not a match.

Behind her, the guards drag out the latest corpse. Another set dragging in new fodder for yellow. Dora can't hide the trembling of her hands against the keyboard as their victim shrieks invectives at them.

She doesn't know what Brock is planning, but she hopes it's soon.

* * *

On hands and knees, Eddie peeks over the side of the cliff with a full on grimace and one eye squinched closed before scuttling away.

Nope, nope, nope- this was a stupid idea. He takes it back. What was that about being bullet-proof and eating your enemies? Let's go back to tha-ACK

He looks over his shoulder. A thin black tentacle stretches out from the base of his spine, anchoring him to the rock at the edge of the cliff.

Venom doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to.

"Nooooooooooooooo," Eddie whines as the tentacle slowly contracts, dragging him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup.


End file.
